


Fucking witches, man!

by Eliza_Sugarcane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cake, Cursed Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Deserves Nice Things, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Protective Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza_Sugarcane/pseuds/Eliza_Sugarcane
Summary: Dean gets hit by a curse, and it could've turned out a lot worse, if he's honest.





	Fucking witches, man!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starmouse123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starmouse123/gifts).



> This is part of the Profound Bond Gift Exchange. I really hope you like it Starmouse! I tried to incorporate as much magic as I could, but it wouldn't cooperate ;)

 

By the third day, Dean was getting really pissed. What did they have this huge library for if it didn't even have answers when they needed it?

“Stupid ass motherfucking witches! No wonder people used to burn them at the stake,” he grumbled, his tail twitching in aggravation.

Because yes, he had a freaking tail! And matching horns that got caught on light fixtures and door frames. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, he also had fangs. The non-retractable kind that made him have a lisp and constantly bite his own lip, which freaking hurt, thank you very much.

He really hated witches, with a passion burning brighter than a thousand fires, in which all witches should burn forever. And now he was getting poetic. Stupid witches.

“Hey guys, I think I found something.” Dean perked up at Sam's statement, hopeful, and couldn't help swearing loudly when the next words his brother uttered where, “ehh, never mind, that's not going to work.”

“Fucking hell Sammy, just shut up! Ow, fuck that was my lip!” Dean’s hand flew to his mouth and came back with bloody fingers. Stupid witches and their stupid spells giving him stupid fangs!

Sam just glared at him and turned his attention back to the stack of old, dusty books he was currently working his way through to find a solution for Dean’s little problem. Cas, on the other hand, did exactly what he had been doing for the last three days, he fretted.

“Dean, are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need assistance?”

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath to center himself. It wouldn't help anyone if he upset Cas on top of all that was going on, but after having to practically slam the door in the angel’s face- when he had to use the bathroom earlier in the day, his patience was running a little thin.

Before he could even say something to reassure Cas that he wasn't going to die from a little self-inflicted bite, he felt the familiar tingle of grace running through his body, healing his lip and making the building pressure behind his eyes disappear. He couldn't help the little sigh of relief at the tension draining out of his shoulders and neck and almost choked on a surprised noise when that sigh caught in his throat and became something else. Holy cow, was that a purr?

Fucking witches, man.

 

On day ten, Dean was almost used to his new limbs, the only thing that still caused a lot of trouble were the fangs.

He suspected it wouldn't be so bad if they were retractable, but as it was he couldn't count the number of times he accidentally shredded his lips while trying to eat.

Other than that, and the perpetual headache he got from carrying two decently sized horns on his head, Dean suspected it could've been a lot worse. By now he even had gotten used to Cas's constant worry and if he was totally honest, at least with himself, then he had to admit that it was nice being worried about for once instead of worrying yourself.

They were still scouring the library of the bunker in the hopes of finding something, anything, that would reset Dean to his natural state, but the tension in the air had gotten a lot less volatile and there were less fights between him and Sam.

The only elephant in the room was that the hunts had to take a backseat, as Dean could hardly impersonate a government official while sporting his slightly demonic accessories.

Sam and Cas both had started to try and convince Dean to call Rowena in an effort to turn Dean back to normal at the three day mark, but so far he had resisted. Putting another witch into the situation had to be trouble.

Dean tried to stretch out his neck but the tension wouldn't lessen and he was just resigning to another night of tossing and turning because of neck pain, when there suddenly were hands on his shoulders.

He startled and looked over his shoulder only to see Cas standing there, arms outstretched and looking like he might be ready to fight Dean if he pulled away. “You are very tense Dean, I wish to give you a massage,” he stated calmly, in a voice that didn't allow for arguments.

Over the past week or so Cas had gotten more aggressive in his touchy-feeliness and as much as Dean acted like he could barely stand it, he had to admit that it was nice. Cas had always been special, this is the guy that pulled him out of hell and rebuilt him entirely after all, and he missed physical contact sometimes. His last real opportunity for something more than a one-night stand, something that didn't end in him leaving as fast as possible, had been with Lisa, and though he wouldn't admit it, Dean was a cuddler. He missed cuddling.

Cas was working his magic on Dean’s neck, it felt like a very good massage, helped along by some well-placed grace, and Dean couldn't help the purr that worked its way out of his throat.

Cas's thumbs lingered right under his hairline for just a moment longer than expected and Dean could feel something in his stomach flutter, by now he was used to it, even had admitted to himself that he had been in love with Cas for the longest time, but having him this close, when surely he didn't mean anything by it, was like sweet torture. But instead of moving on and continuing the massage like before, Cas's hands, his beautiful, sexy hands, stayed where they were and only his thumbs kept moving in small, gentle circles on Dean’s neck. The flutter in Deans stomach intensified and he could feel a flush starting to creep up to his ears, damn his pale skin!

“C-Cas, buddy, what...” he started, but before he could even figure out what he wanted to say, Cas shushed him and just kept going.

Dean turned on his chair and found himself face to face with Cas, whose absurdly blue eyes seemed darker than usual, was this...did he  _ mean _ it? Could this be more than just helping a friend out? More than a guilty conscience for getting in the way of a spell that was supposed to hit the angel?

“Dean, I am going to kiss you now.” Cas sounded serious, there wasn't any doubt in his voice, but Dean knew if he pulled back, all of this would stop. They would go back to dancing around each other like they had for the past few years and everything would go back to normal. Or as close to normal as a Winchester ever got. He didn't want it to stop, oh how he didn't.

Cas took his stillness as the consent it was and their lips met. It was soft, almost chaste, but something in Dean shifted, and suddenly, for the first time in forever, he felt at home. Right in his own skin, in a way he hadn't since hell. It was like the last missing puzzle piece had clicked into place and Dean never wanted to give up this feeling ever again. He could feel a giddy laugh threaten to escape and silenced himself by deepening the kiss.

 

On day thirteen, Dean stared at Sam in utter disbelief. “ _ That's  _ the spell? Seriously? A  _ cake _ ?”

Sam rolled his eyes, and, fair enough, it had been five minutes since he had first shown Dean the little cake that was supposed to be the solution to Dean’s demonic little problem.

“Yes Dean, that’s it. Eat it! And by tomorrow morning you're supposed to be back to normal. Trust me man.”

Now that was just unfair. Of course Dean trusted Sam, it seemed just too good to be true. The solution to all his problems was a cake? Too perfect, couldn't be true. But he suspected that Sam would be seriously pissed if he didn't eat that thing right now, so he grumbled a bit and took a bite. “If I keel over, you better bring me back. Bitch.”

“Whatever, jerk.”


End file.
